


Torchwood Christmas Special

by barbarosabee



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Fluff, Gen, christmas shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 08:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18406460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbarosabee/pseuds/barbarosabee
Summary: Oneshot Christmas special. Eggnog thievery involved, and tangled Christmas lights. Owen is not amused. Jack is oblivious. Gwen has a master plan, and it involves the entire Hub.





	Torchwood Christmas Special

**Author's Note:**

> Another 12 year old story oh god

Well, isn't this a change for me? Humour AND a K rating? Holy crap she's gone PG!

Ok, it's  _only_  six months late. Doesn't mean you still can't enjoy it! Meant to post this in December, but . . . oh well. Enjoy! (Un-beta'd, any mistakes are the result of my lack of faith in spell check and bad eyesight)

This is going off first series personalities.

\- - - means scene change

* * *

"Ianto, we're out of biscuits. Could you run out and get some?" Jack said into his earpiece, frowning at the scant supplies in the kitchen pantry.

"Sorry, sir, I'm a bit busy right now."

"Doing what?"

"Helping Tosh reconfigure the CCTV. She won't let me out of it."

Jack sighed and leaned against the counter, folding his arms. "Fine. I'll be back in twenty."

Jack swung his coat off the table and around his shoulders, striding towards the stairs.

"He's gone," Tosh announced, smiling at the computer screen.

Gwen clapped her hands together as she stood. "All right. Better get to work. Owen, come help me cut loops for the paper chains."

"Isn't all that foil stuff enough?" Owen whined as he ascended the stairs from the operating theatre.

"No."

Owen rolled his eyes. Gwen offered him a glare that said "just  _try_  to defy me." Owen sighed and sat reluctantly next to her. She shoved a pile of coloured papers and a pair of scissors at him.

"You cut them into strips and I'll staple them."

She then picked up her own scissors and proceeded to cut and fold white paper. Owen watched her complete three "snowflakes" before she noticed he wasn't doing his assigned task.

"Well, hurry up, Owen! We've only got twenty minutes."

"Fifteen," Ianto said as he walked past them.

"And where do you think you're going, tea boy?"

"To bake, apparently," he called over his shoulder.

Owen gaped at Gwen.

"How come he gets the fun stuff?"

"Oh hush, Owen. I doubt you're any good at cooking anyways."

Owen noisily put the scissors down with a huff of indignation.

"Ex _cuse_  me, but—"

"Owen."

"What?"

"Shut up and cut and the paper."

Owen briefly considered what would happen if he stapled her, but then realized soon after that she was inches away from a pair of scissors and he liked his genitals where they were. When Gwen impatiently tapped his paper pile, he knew there would be no more avoiding it.

"And if you think about doing a shit job, you'll just be redoing them all."

"Fine." Owen grumbled every curse that came to mind, quietly enough that Gwen wouldn't look over and prod him in the ribs.

"So what's Tosh doing?"

Gwen smiled. "You'll see. Now cut!"

Sighing, Owen took three sheets of red paper and cut horizontal strips. He tossed them unceremoniously into a pile; Gwen glared at him for the first few rounds, then let it be.

"Cut some green, too."

Owen smiled cynically and scissored the desired paper.

"Wait a minute." He put the scissors down and crossed his arms over his chest " _Why_  am I doing this?"

"For decorating."

"I know that, but  _why_  are we  _decorating_?"

Gwen shrugged. "This place could use a little lightening-up. Besides, it's fun!"

"For you, maybe."

"What I can't believe," Toshiko said as she climbed the stars, "is that we even have these."

She dropped the large box next to her computer station, brushing her hands on the legs of her jeans.

"It's going to be a real pain untangling them."

Gwen glanced surreptitiously at the stack of paper strips. It was barely an inch thick . . . she'd have to cut more herself, and that would slow the process down. But untangling the lights would take longer if Tosh did it all by herself. . . .

"Owen, help Tosh with the lights."

"I thought you wanted me to cut paper!"

"Those lights will take too long to untangle if Tosh does them all herself, and we don't have long till Jack gets back. So you go help her, and I'll do this by myself."

"And why can't Ianto do this?"

"Because I'm already doing something else, Owen." Ianto's voice came through their earpieces.

Owen exaggeratedly rolled his eyes and shuffled over to Tosh. He reached into the box, hauled out an armful of the green-stringed lights and sat on the floor. He hunched over his work, glaring back at Gwen occasionally.

"Ianto, how's it coming along?"

"Great, but Jack's on his way back."

"Can you stall him?"

"Any suggestions?"

"Eggnog," Owen offered from the floor, not looking up from the task set before him.

"Ask him to get some eggnog. That should keep him away for a little bit."

"And if he comes back before we finish?"

"Send him out again."

"He'll get suspicious."

"I trust you, Ianto. Stall him."

"Jack?"

"Yes Ianto?"

"Gwen's requested eggnog. Since you're already out, do you think you could pick some up? _"_

Jack sighed and glanced over at the plastic bag from the bodega. The amiable clerk had gone on about how they kept selling out of eggnog. . . .

"How badly does she want it?"

"I wouldn't question her, sir."

Jack chuckled. "All right. See you in . . .," Jack glanced at the clock on the dashboard, "half an hour."

"Be safe, sir _._ "

"I will, Ianto."

Ianto smiled to himself as Jack hung up.

"Gwen, you've got a minimum of thirty more minutes."

"Perfect. How's the cake _?_ " She whispered the last part; Ianto was sure she didn't want Owen or Tosh to hear.

"Just about to put it in the oven."

"And you have everything you need for decorating it?"

"Yes."

"Great. Owen and Tosh are sorting out the lights now. I think the chain's long enough. I'll make more snowflakes _._ "

Ianto chuckled as he balanced the cake pans and cooling racks, trying to open the oven with his foot.

"Do you want to set up the tree?"

"What tree?"

"The plastic one in the box labelled 'Never Even Attempt To Open.' Jack . . . thought it would be funny to put that on there. To deter anyone from opening it."

"Funny. Okay, I'll let you get back to work — Owen, come on! Stay and help her!"

"I am second in command, and it is bloody ridiculous that I should be doing this!" Came Owen's voice, fainter over the phone, but distinctly pissed.

Gwen sighed. "Got to go." And hung up.

Ianto gently kicked the oven closed and fiddled with the cooking timer until it reached the desired twenty-six minutes. He pulled one of the chairs out and sat down, smiling to himself. He rolled the blue sleeves of his shirt up to his elbow, wiping his hands on the grey "Kiss the Secretary" apron. Owen had found it hilarious in its tactlessness and insisted Ianto keep it. Ianto, now, was glad he had, otherwise the dusting of flour and chocolate would be all over his suit.

When Gwen had told him what she wanted to do, his instinctive reaction was that it was a bad idea. He figured there was a good reason why Jack never said anything about Christmas, only that they all had the day off. Ianto also had the suspicion that Gwen wasn't sharing everything she had planned; her instructions consisted of "decorate" to Tosh and Owen, and "Do you know how to make a cake?" to himself. Tosh agreed with nothing but mild curiosity and interest; Owen, apparently, was being more difficult about the whole thing than he would if presented with orders to wrestle a weevil.

Ianto just hoped everything would be finished before Jack returned.

Jack wished Ianto had called him earlier. Much earlier. Preferably, as he was leaving the Hub. Or that Gwen had asked for the damned eggnog before he even left. Because now, Jack believed he was fated to spend the rest of the day driving around Cardiff looking for a store that wasn't entirely sold out of the holiday drink. Oh yeah, Christmas Eve was  _definitely_  the best day for eggnog stalking. By far. Much better than December twenty-third, or twenty-second. Or even the twenty-sixth! When every retail store in existence had sales, and eggnog would be plentiful and  _far_  easier to find.

But alas, Cardiff's resident population of eggnog — a highly endangered species during the holiday season — had been hunted to extinction. At least, until the next round of delivery trucks. And, as per history, extinct species are quite difficult, if not impossible, to find. Well, excluding those Jurassic Park books . . .

So Jack was left to drive to the opposite end of the city. He did not appreciate that. He didn't usually shop here, ever, quite frankly. Going in to an unfamiliar grocery store is awkward enough  _without_  obviously being from Torchwood. That rather large, black SUV with their name laser-carved into the sides was difficult to miss. People actually stopped to see if they had missed something vitally interesting that required the presence of Torchwood.

Or, that's what Jack would have liked them to think. Most people in the car park just raised eyebrows at him. He ignored them and focused on the task at hand.

He stepped through the automatic doors and stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before an old woman with a cane nudged his foot. Then he was left to read the signs at the top of each aisle . . . eggnog needed to be kept cold, so that would put it in approximately the fridge section.

Jack strode towards it with renewed confidence. Get the eggnog, pay, get out and back to the Hub. Tell everyone to go home already, and then corner Ianto. Good schedule for the night.

Only one slight problem.

That old lady with the cane was about to grab the last carton of eggnog.

"Gwen better appreciate this," and nearly leapt forward.

He scrabbled to get around the half-open door, but the lady batted him off with a cane.

"Oh, was I in your way?" he tried to sound sweet, despite his thinning tolerance.

"Oh, maybe. No harm no fuss," she replied with a kind smile. Too old to see tricks, then.

"Okay. I have this crazy girlfriend — she won't let me back in our flat unless I come back with eggnog, and I've been all over the city looking for some. I'd really just love to go home and get warm again, and I can do that if you would be so kind as to let me have that carton you're holding."

She grinned, flattered. Perhaps he had gone too far . . . he didn't want to make this into a long conversation.

"Well, I have a grandson at home that absolutely insists on some Welsh eggnog before he heads off to Florida."

Jack smiled. "May I suggest something?"

"Absolutely."

"Give me that carton, and then you  _and_  your grandson can go out and buy some together."

She seemed to chew on the inside of her cheek, thinking it over. "I'd better not. But best of luck to you in finding more! Hopefully your girl will see sense if you come back empty-handed."

Okay, time for the desperate approach. "You don't understand. She really  _will_  keep me out in the cold all night, and then send me out again. Your grandson won't stick you out in the cold, will he?"

"Goodness no!"

"So which of us will be worse off for returning without eggnog?"

"I suppose you."

She started to shuffle off towards the check-out counter. Jack was preparing himself to sink to a low of lows. Grabbing a bag of bagels that for some odd reason was on the shelf across from the milk and creamers, he rolled it at her cane. It hit its mark; she dropped her cane, and Jack dove for the falling eggnog.

It fell gracefully into his hands. In one smooth motion, he rolled over, stood, and dashed for the check-out. Once there, he whipped out something like ten quid and ran out before he could be given his change. As he yanked the car door shut, he called Ianto.

"Did you get the eggnog, sir _?_ "

"Yes, and make sure Gwen knows that I had to knock an old woman's cane out from beneath her to get it. Anybody want anything else while I'm out?"

Jack heard Ianto shout something muffled.

"Owen's asking if you could get some beer — no, wait, he specifically said 'something potent enough for me to drown out this misery.' Dunno what he has to complain about, nothing's happened all day."

Jack chuckled, starting the car and quickly pulling out of the car park before any store employees could be sent out to apprehend him in the name of good civil conduct. "Tell him too bad, and to stay out of my office. If anything's out of place, I'll blame him and give him admin work for the next month."

"Great. Take your time, sir. Weather could turn nasty."

"Ianto—"

"Gotta go, Gwen wants something _._ " And hung up.

Jack sighed and focused on wending his way back to the Hub.

"He's not going to get you anything, Owen. So just shut the hell up and help! We'd be done already if you would stop whining!" Gwen hit the back of his head as she walked past; Owen snarled. Untangling Christmas lights and accordingly decorating the work place was  _not_  in his job description. Jack didn't pay him enough.

"Owen, would you string this set along the railings?" Tosh held out a roll of untangled lights. Owen took them and walked off, surly.

The cog door opened and Gwen froze, but it was only Ianto.

"Cake's done and Jack should be here soon."

"Thanks for the update." Gwen stuck the last few snowflakes along the doorframe of Jack's office.

"Couldn't find the tree?" Ianto inquired as he made his way over to Gwen's work station. He swept the paper bits from Gwen's various cuttings into the rubbish bin.

"No, thought it might be a bit much anyway."

Ianto sat in a vacant chair and pulled up the CCTV angles that covered the entrances. And after only a short moment, he stood suddenly.

"Jack's back."

"Finally," Owen muttered and rolled his eyes.

"Uh, Ianto, bring the cake down before he gets in. Tosh, hit the lights. Owen . . . don't be an arse and spoil it."

Jack decided to go through the reception area, in hopes of catching Ianto away from the others. To his surprise, though, Ianto was not there. Figuring one of the women had found something for him to do, Jack set off for the lift.

When the cog door opened to darkness, concern worked his hand towards his Webly. The plastic bag containing eggnog and biscuits slid down his arm until it came to rest at the elbow.

"Gwen?"

No response.

"Toshiko?"

Nothing.

"Ianto?"

Silence.

"Owen?"

Jack took a few careful steps forward. "Gwen, I had to knock down an old woman to get you this eggnog."

A slight noise from the workstations. It sounded almost like a stifled giggle . . .

Strings of lights surrounded him almost in the same instant. Jack lowered his gun as Gwen and Toshiko jumped up from behind a computer.

"Happy Christmas!"

Ianto stepped out of Jack's office with a cake in one hand, a bottle of wine and plastic cups balanced in the other. Owen came out of the boardroom with an apologetic look on his face.

"I told them it was a bad idea."

Gwen bounced over and retrieved the eggnog and biscuits from Jack. "Well, no sense in just standing there! C'mon, let's celebrate!"

She pulled Jack over to the rest of them; Tosh typed something at her computer and holiday music started playing. Jack sighed, grinned, shook his head and shrugged out of his coat.

"Celebrate we shall."

* * *

Thanksgiving special maybe to follow . . . at some point . . . . in the distant future. . . .


End file.
